


A Brief History of Mistletoe

by Miss_Deyora_Ash



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Mistletoe, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28226712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Deyora_Ash/pseuds/Miss_Deyora_Ash
Summary: Jimmy thinks kissing under mistletoe is a morbid tradition. Being an eternal romantic, Robert of course attempts to change his mind. Being a nerd, his method is retelling myths.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	A Brief History of Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> I barely celebrate Christmas and have never even seen mistletoe, so naturally I had to write a fic involving these things. I feel very silly posting it.
> 
> I will be posting a rather more thought out fic later this week once I've finished it. Incidentally, that will again put me on a solid one-fic-a-week on average for the past month.

“You know, there’s something very morbid about the tradition of kissing under mistletoe.” Robert looked up from his book at the sudden words. Across from him Jimmy was sprawled in an armchair, guitar carefully sat against it in a way that could almost pass for careless. A petulant pout on his face that Robert wanted to kiss away and furrowed eyebrows.

He contemplated whether to indulge Jimmy’s newest problem of the hour or his own desires, but a second look at his boyfriend’s face made the decision for him. “What’s that?”

“Well, the plant’s poisonous.”

“Toxic,” Robert cut in. “I think it’s toxic.” He considered making a Plant joke but if this turned out to be one of Jimmy’s serious considerations it would not be received well.

Jimmy tilted his head. “Is there a difference?”

“I’m sure there is, but I wouldn’t know what it is,” he said slowly, considering it. Jimmy’s lips curled up fondly, but only for a moment. Then he was back to frowning.

“Toxic then. We’re kissing under a toxic plant. Why would we do so?” he complained.

Robert brightened up. This was certainly an issue he could solve. His area of expertise, one might say. “It’s a Norse thing.”

“Everything’s a Norse thing according to you,” the guitarist said unimpressed, but he did push himself a bit more upright as if it would help him listen better.

“This is really an Old Norse thing. There are multiple versions to the tale-“

“There are _always_ multiple version to these tales, can’t they make up their minds?”

Now it was Robert’s turn to frown. “If you wish to hear the story you should really shut up for a while. And all good myths have multiple versions.” Jimmy rolled his eyes at that, but he did not say anything more. “I will tell the one I like best. There was a god, Baldur, and he was the best and wisest among the Aesir.” Jimmy rolled his eyes again at that – he often disliked stories where the main character was a great person. He once told Robert it was unnatural, since all people had their bad sides. Robert thought that was a very bleak outlook on life.

“One night, Baldur dreamt of his own death, and his mother Frigg did as well. Since dreams are often prophetic, even more so when had more than once, they were afraid it would come true. To prevent this Frigg made every element and every living thing on earth promise not to hurt Baldur.”

Jimmy snorted out a laugh at that. “She made _every living thing_ promise that? That is honestly ridiculous. Even I am not that superstitious.”

Robert glared at him. “You are definitely that superstitious, you’re just not a real god so you cannot accomplish such a thing. Now let me tell the story.” Jimmy faked an affronted look but didn’t deny it.

He took a deep breath. “Okay. Eventually every living thing had made that promise. Every thing, except for the mistletoe, because she had forgotten about it. So Frigg went back to the home of the Aesir, and soon everyone learned that Baldur was now invincible. The other gods wished to test the extent of this power, so they made a game of it – they would throw objects at him, anything they could think off. And it seemed that Frigg’s plan had worked. They throw blocks of wood, but left no bruises. Venom and poison had no effect. A burning torch made him flinch, but when it hit the fire merely felt warm. Even iron spears and sharp swords bounced off him without hurting.

“Then Loki, the trickster god, learned of the game. He fashioned a spear out of mistletoe and handed it to Baldur’s brother Hodur, who was blind. ‘Throw this at Baldur,’ he said with a smile, ‘it shall be just as much fun!’ And Hodur, not suspecting anything, threw the spear. It hit Baldur and pierced his heart, and he died.”

“Well that’s anticlimactic. And utterly predictable.” But by now he was leaning forward a bit, body turned towards Robert.

“Shut. Up. In response to this Odin had another son with a giantess, who was born and grew to adulthood in one day.” Robert vehemently ignored Jimmy’s laughter and cry of ‘what the fuck’. “This son, Vali, was tasked to avenge Baldur. First he killed Hodur. After that he took Loki and his son Narvi to a cave, where he changed into a wolf and ripped Narvi’s entrails out. Those he used to bind Loki to a stone, after which a snake was suspended over him to drip venom on him. There he would remain until Ragnarok,” Robert finished. He admitted to himself that the last part hadn’t been told as well, but it was all Jimmy’s fault for interrupting him anyway.

“This turned very bloody morbid. How was this supposed to defend the current use of mistletoe exactly?” Jimmy asked, frowning again. Right, that was why he was telling the story.

“Oh, yes, that’s another part. After Baldur’s death, Frigg managed to make a deal with Hel, the goddess of death, that she would release Baldur if all living things would weep for him.”

“Again with the all living things, just accept he’s dead already,” Jimmy muttered.

“So again she went to see all creatures and asked each of them whether they were saddened by her son’s death. And each of them wept and asked for his return, except for the Jotunn Thokk who refused to mourn. Therefor Baldur was to remain dead.

“After this the mistletoe regretted its role in Baldur’s murder, and Frigg instead made it into a symbol for peace and love to remember him by. And thus when one passes under the mistletoe they should kiss another, to remember Baldur,” Robert finished the story, smiling to himself. What a wonderful myth it was.

“That makes no sense. I don’t know the myths, but I am completely certain that last part was added on later. Co-opted by Christians to give their silly tradition meaning no doubt. To remember him by? He wasn’t a god of love now was he? Or a god of kissing?” Robert’s smile fell away as Jimmy pointed out every flaw in the myth. Thankfully the guitarist noticed and stopped speaking after a while – his tendency to overanalyse everything was not one of his more charming characteristics.

“Why did Loki do what he did?” he eventually asked, a small frown on his face.

Robert thought about it. “I think he’s not supposed to have a reason. But there’s some tale where Frigg says that if she had a son like Loki instead of Baldur she would kill him, so maybe it’s revenge.”

“Did he even know that the mistletoe would hurt Baldur? Maybe it was an accident,” Jimmy said. Thinking out loud. He’s stopped frowning again but Robert still wants to kiss him.

Honestly, he’s had enough of Philosophical Discussions with Pagey lately. Time for something more fun instead. Mistletoe was always a great excuse after all. He got up and stretched languidly, feeling Jimmy’s eyes follow him like a cat a mouse. “Come on.”

“What are we doing?” Jimmy asked, but he had stood up to and crossed the distance between them already. Robert held out his hand and Jimmy took it without question or hesitation. Wonderful.

“You’ll see.” Christmas traditions were really not that different here in the US than back in England, but Robert had noticed the decorations were much more elaborate. Accordingly he had filled Jimmy’s secondary hotel room with an abundance of fairy lights (advertised as string lights on the package) and fake evergreen (but Jimmy vetoed real branches because of the needles). He had wanted to add some of the delightfully ugly plastic ornaments that everyone seemed to have here, but that was where the guitarist drew the line – something about not ruining the look of his room, Robert hadn’t paid attention. What he had done was make sure to hang up mistletoe over the door without Jimmy’s knowledge. Just in case.

Jimmy sighed when he recognised the small green plant, but when Robert glanced at him he was smiling. “How could I have expected anything different?”

“Well, you brought it up. I’m just surprised you didn’t notice before,” Robert said with a laugh. He tugged Jimmy next to him.

“Technically we’re still not underneath it,” Jimmy pointed out. “And also I’m still of the opinion that it’s a morbid tradition.”

“Are you really arguing against kissing me?” Robert said with his best irresistible pout.

His boyfriend giggled at that. “I suppose that is rather a stupid thing to do,” he said, lacing his hands through Robert’s hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

This was even more wonderful. He loved kissing him, loved being able to do it out in the open with the perfect excuse. He loved Jimmy most of all. Their lips fit against each other perfectly, and then Jimmy’s tongue was licking along his own tasting like eggnog and peppermint and for once not like whiskey. He placed a hand on the small of his back and pulled him closer, their bodies flush against each other. In response Jimmy slid one hand down to his neck and deepened the kiss. Tongues dancing together.

When they finally detached from each other they were both panting slightly. Jimmy’s cheeks were flushed red and all it accomplished was make him want to kiss him again.

Instead he leaned down to whisper filthily in his ear. “You know, many other cultures had a different belief about the mistletoe. Apparently it’s a symbol for male fertility.”

Jimmy’s smile turned very wicked at that. “Now _that_ I can get behind.”

**Author's Note:**

> The retelling of the myth is mainly based on my favourite book on Norse mythology that is as far as I know only available in my native language. I did check out some online resources which disagreed on a lot of details.  
> A lot of articles on mistletoe will tell you that the Baldur myth is the origin for the tradition, as Robert suggests here. Since in reality kissing under mistletoe started in the 18th century this seems unlikely, and more of an addendum to have a good origin story.


End file.
